Charisma by Jo Bannister Read Free Book Online Page A

But there was nothing unusual about a roll of old tarpaulin left out with the timberyard’s rubbish. Why would anyone investigate? You can’t blame people for walking past, any more than you can blame Donovan for not hearing anything. It would have been nice if we’d picked up on it sooner but nobody turned their back on her deliberately. It was bad luck, that’s all.’
    Shapiro nodded dispiritedly. ‘I just wonder sometimes if we’re the only ones who give a damn about law, order, the sanctity of human life, all that stuff. If the tax-payers of Castlemere wouldn’t be just as happy with an effective public cleansing department that tidied up the mess so they didn’t have to look at it. Go into town. Have lunch in a nice restaurant, have a drink in a wine bar, have a look round a couple of the better shops, and listen to what’s being said. You think the place is going to be up in arms over this? Somebody cut a young girl’s throat: that’s public knowledge now. But what’s Castlemere going to be talking about? Going down three-nil to Hull Kingston Rovers. Delays on the motorway due to the contra-flow system. How long it takes to get an appointment at Hair traffic Control. They don’t care, Liz. The only reference you’ll hear, if you hear anything, is What do these girls expect? and Why don’t the police do something about prostitutes?’
    â€˜You’re not being fair, Frank. We worry about it because it’s our job to. They pay us to worry about it. They try not to worry about it, not to think about it, because there’s nothing they can do. None of them, and probably none of us either, could have saved Charisma from that end or one very like it. Donovan tried, I imagine others have too, and she didn’t want to know. We could have locked her up. Then the man who killed her would have killed someone else – a young girl on her way home from a disco or out walking the family dog, a young mother whose car broke down so she had to walk the last mile home. I’m not saying that would necessarily have been worse. But would it have been any better?’
    â€˜It would at least have reminded our local worthies that violent death isn’t the prerogative of the poor,’ Shapiro said savagely. At once he relented with a wry smile. ‘You’re right, I’m being unfair. It’s just, I get so tired of policing two nations when one of them thinks there’s a special lane on the ring road for BMWs and the
other thinks we’re part of a conspiracy against them.’
    Before she left Liz said, ‘What, if anything, do you want me to do about Bailie? Now it seems he isn’t Donovan’s friendly neighbourhood terrorist after all?’
    Shapiro’s lived-in face wrinkled. ‘What’s to do? He’s in the clear as far as the crime we’re investigating – they all are, they didn’t enter the country until after she was dead. And if he didn’t kill her, why would he be moving her body about? Surely to God that was the killer. His slip about the knife must have been a coincidence.’
    â€˜Donovan’s still convinced he’s Liam Brady.’
    â€˜Donovan’s always convinced he’s right, right up to the moment that he’s proved wrong. Brady’s dead. Special Branch wouldn’t have closed the file without being sure.’
    As she went down the corridor towards her own office she met Donovan coming up it. ‘Is the chief in?’
    â€˜Yes,’ she said. ‘And no.’
    He frowned. ‘I wanted to ask him—’
    â€˜No,’ she said again.
    He didn’t understand. ‘I wondered what he thought, if it’s a good idea—’
    â€˜No, Donovan,’ she said a third time. ‘No, you may not go and see Bailie. No, you may not accuse him of being a dead terrorist. No, you may not search his belongings for Semtex. I asked Mr Shapiro